Hawk Eyes and Eagle Wings
by Tohdoh
Summary: What if Faramir and Eowyn had met when they were children? What happens when a young, cautious ranger and a bold, noble girl get caught by Orcs? [LotR AU. Old fic from 2011, revised and relaunched.]
1. Chapter 1

****I wrote this 3 years ago (October 2011) on an older account that's no longer desirable or active; I decided to re-launch the fic after some writing revisions. Enjoy!****

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**Hawk Eyes and Eagle Wings (1)**

Twelve-year old Faramir cast his eyes to the wondrous view of Rohan. Then he closed them as a gentle breeze stirred his light brown curls. He breathed in deeply, and let out a gusty sigh. He had been trekking across plains and through forests since sunrise. Now he felt the sunset's glow warm his back as he faced the citadel. Never had he dreamed of venturing beyond Minas Tirith, let alone the very border of Gondor.

In his hand and close to his side was his longbow, a trusty weapon that nearly reached his height. Strapped to his back was his quiver of arrows for hunting and a light pack of rations. Faramir's visage was one of transition, the verge between a boy and a man. Though his jaw and cheeks were somewhat soft and round, his gray eyes and the set of his lips expressed maturity beyond his twelve years. It was easy to see that Faramir possessed a sharp mind attuned to his sharp senses.

The sound of galloping horses rolled like distant thunder to Faramir's right. About forty feet away, a Rohirric patrol headed for the citadel. The boy ducked back into the cover of the woods and continued to watch. With his proximity to Rohan's territory, the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a trespasser.

From an article about the nature of Rohan's cavalry, he had learned that their frequent patrols were a sign of constant vigilance, and dislike, of even travelers and fellow Men.

Faramir wasn't entirely sure on how they treated roving Gondorians. He wasn't taking any chances. He slipped back into the enclosed familiarity of the Ithilien forest.

He decided that he had better go hunt for something before nightfall. Faramir pulled his wood-green cloak over his Gondorian tunic, including the White Tree that blazed on his chest. Thanks to seasoned training, Faramir was able to sight, notch an arrow, aim and shoot with barely a sound. He caught himself a decent rabbit, just in time before darkness fully settled. The young Ranger gathered mid-sized branches for firewood, and sharpened the smallest one into a spit.

He had just finished polishing the second end when a crackle of leaves caught his attention. He froze and snapped his head toward the sound.

'Footsteps...they sound light and unsure. What could it be?'

Faramir rose to a crouch and crept closer with his bow in hand. Despite his quiet breathing and light feet, his heart pounded in his chest. It didn't sound at all like an Orc's lumber, but he couldn't be certain.

Suddenly something white flashed out of the corner of his eye.

Faramir threw himself behind the nearest tree and tensed.

'Am I seeing a ghost? What should I do?'

He took the moment to shut his eyes and swallow down his fear. Then he steeled himself and sprang from his hiding place, bow and arrow at the ready. The ghostly thing made a startled, high-pitched yelp and leapt back. Faramir's heart stopped. He nearly released his arrow. Instead he slackened his bow in surprise.

What he thought was a ghost was actually a girl. A rather pale and fair one, at that. Her laced white dress billowed at her feet. She regarded him with wide, frightened eyes.

Faramir slowly let his bow rest against his side to show he meant no harm.

"I come to you in peace. Who are you?"

Fear immediately dissolved from her face. The fair-haired girl observed him disdainfully. "I am Eowyn, niece to Theoden, king of Rohan and member of the house of Eorl. It is I who should ask you first."

Faramir suppressed a chuckle. He shouldered his longbow and inclined his head. "Forgive me, my lady. I wasn't aware that I'm addressing a maid of noble blood."

Eowyn tipped her chin to him in a cold manner. "Then know it now and do not forget. Pray tell, who are _you_?"

"I am Faramir, son of Denethor, and heir to the Steward of Gondor."

"Steward? Why not a prince? And why are you clothed like a traveler?"

Faramir didn't respond. Given the current situation, she was in no position to ask questions. Eowyn seemed to be put off by his steady gray gaze.

"Well? Go on, answer me."

"When did you leave the city?" he asked.

The girl's eyes widened for a second and she opened her mouth to retort. But Faramir cut her off patiently.

"I did not ask why. I merely ask when."

"…I left at noon."

"Then I suppose you're hungry."

Eowyn pursed her lips, then she looked down to the hem of her dress. "Yes. A little."

"Then come with me. I have food and a fire nearby. I'll answer your questions in due time."

Faramir turned back to the woods, and Eowyn reluctantly followed. His fire was still going. Flames leapt and danced over the wood it steadily consumed. The rabbit carcass still laid next to it.

Faramir turned to Eowyn. "Give me a few minutes to cook this rabbit. Can you wait?"

She nodded. Curiosity replaced the hostility in her eyes as she tucked in her dress and carefully sat down. Faramir set aside his bow and quiver. Eowyn's gaze followed the young Ranger as he speared the rabbit on the spit with firm and deft hands.

Undaunted by pluming smoke and flying sparks, Faramir started cooking the rabbit.

He turned the spit over a few times, hearing the fat crackle and watching the meat turn from red to golden-brown. Eowyn simply sat there with her legs crossed and hands folded in her lap, mesmerized by the whole thing.

Finally, Faramir looked satisfied as he removed the spit from the fire. "There, done as promised. Though I hope I didn't burn it."

He pulled out a pocket knife and divided the meat into roughly two halves. He handed to Eowyn the meat that was still on the spit. She thanked him and accepted it. He held and ate his share with his fingers.

Eowyn nibbled at the meat slowly and daintily, but not before taking care to peel off the skin.

"You should keep it on," Faramir suggested. "The skin has all the flavor and tastes great with the meat."

"I don't like its texture," she snapped. "And you are not my mother."

Then something seemed to stir inside her, because the anger in her eyes dimmed.

"I'm sorry." she murmured. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. The rabbit is very good...thank you for catching and cooking it."

"It's all right. You're welcome, Eowyn."

The children lapsed into silence as they worked on finishing their meal. Eowyn left the fat untouched while Faramir picked his meat clean to the bone.

The Rohirric girl leaned back and wrapped her hands around her full stomach. "How old are you, Faramir?"

"Twelve years."

"Really? I expected older."

"By a lot?"

"Fourteen years at least."

Faramir smiled a little. "I'm a little tall for my age."

"And you sound so mature. How long have you been traveling?"

"I haven't set foot in Minas Tirith in months."

Her eyes lit with excitement. "You must've had all sorts of adventures. Tell me more."

As if it was storytime, the fire illuminated Faramir's gestures and Eowyn's awed expressions. He told her much about the sights he had seen and animals he had hunted.

"Traveling as a Ranger is an exciting but dangerous life." he concluded. "The most important thing I've learned is to never leave anything wasted. An arrow missed is a meal missed."

That still didn't seem to deter Eowyn's enthusiasm. "I long for the life you're leading now," she said wistfully. "For the longest time, I wanted to leave the cage of Rohan and roam like an eagle...with wings wide open under a free sky."

Faramir lightly chuckled. "Don't forget that you must keep a hawk's eye peeled for danger."

Eowyn waved it off. "Where's the thrill without a pinch of peril?"

Faramir shook his head with a grin, but did not attempt to curb her spirit further.

She fluttered a hand to her mouth as she yawned. "All this talk is making me drowsy."

"Then go ahead and rest. I'll keep watch for the night."

"By yourself? Do you want me to help?"

"I'll be fine, young lady. You need the sleep."

Faramir shed his cloak and covered Eowyn with it. She curled into a ball next to him and closed her heavy eyes.

"G'night," she mumbled.

"Good night, Eowyn."

In a matter of minutes, only her rhythmic breathing and the sound of dying embers permeated Faramir's ears. He leaned against a tree and drew his longbow close to his chest. He looked down at Eowyn with many questions occupying his mind.

He knew it would be rude to prod her for the reason she left Rohan, so he didn't bother to ask. But he couldn't help wondering. She had mentioned the desire to roam free. Perhaps she had personal problems back at home, or issues with her family. She had only mentioned her uncle, the king, as her kin. Faramir wondered if she, like him, had any siblings. He didn't know if Eowyn would be willing to answer any of his questions. Then again, he himself wasn't keen on revealing his own backstory. Particularly the tensions between him and his father.

At this, Faramir ceased his brooding. He took his eyes off of Eowyn and let his gaze wander to the night sky above.


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to both old and new readers for supporting this fic. :) **

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**Hawk Eyes and Eagle Wings (2)**

Faramir shook his head to clear his hair of morning dew. Eowyn still slept with the cloak wrapped tightly around her body. All was well and peaceful during the night; now the sun's rays peeked through the trees like fingers of light. Birdsong trilled through the air to herald the sun's arrival. Faramir flexed his stiff shoulders and rose to stretch the rest of his body. Then he knelt down and gently nudged the sleeping girl.

"Wake up, Eowyn. Dawn has arrived."

She mumbled in protest and pushed his arm away. "Not yet, Eomer. Five more minutes." Then Eowyn's bright eyes shot open. She sat up quickly. A smile spread across her face as she laid eyes on Faramir. "This is no dream…" she murmured. "The cool morning air I breathe...the dew I feel in my hair...it's all real." She rose to her feet and put her hands on his shoulders. "You're real too, aren't you?"

Faramir lightly laughed. "I'm no illusion."

Eowyn stepped back with a sheepish grin. "I sound silly, don't I? I just can't believe that I'm really out here by myself. There's nothing more refreshing than waking up to a beautiful morning, and having a friend by my side."

'She is certainly in a better mood than last night,' the boy thought. He smiled back at her before heading to the campfire. "I'll restart this fire and fix breakfast."

She watched as he struck against flint and gently coaxed the sparks into budding flames. He bent over the fire and tended to it as if it were a pet, an object that required care and attention.

"Um...may I be the one to make breakfast?"

The boy turned to her with a questioning gaze. "You can cook?"

"I have watched it enough to give it a try," she replied carefully. "Besides, I owe you for last night's meal."

Faramir thought for a moment. Then he said. "If you insist, I suppose it's a deal."

"Good. Now rest easy while I do the work."

Faramir stepped away and gestured to the fire with a flourish. "Whatever you say, my lady."

After she asked him for a small pot and bowls, Eowyn was left on her own to make breakfast: stew. Faramir relaxed and read his book on Isilidur, the slayer of Sauron and champion of Gondor. He was in the middle of reading the fateful battle between the Dark Lord and the brave king when Eowyn stopped stirring.

"Finished!" she declared.

Eowyn poured steaming liquid into a smaller bowl and walked over to him. Faramir blinked as she thrust the bowl inches away from his face.

"Try it."

"Thank you, Eowyn." he replied.

He accepted the bowl, and she watched as he tipped it to his mouth. As soon as the liquid touched his tongue, his eyes flew wide and reflexes kicked in. He turned his head, nearly choked and spat out.

"What is it?" Eowyn demanded. "Did I do something wrong?"

Faramir held a hand to his chest as he coughed and winced. 'Valar above...that tasted awful!'

She asked again with mixed impatience and panic. "Faramir? What is it?"

When the boy finally collected himself, he replied, "It was just...very hot. I think I burned my tongue."

She scrutinized him with a disbelieving glare. "Liar. Admit it, you thought the soup was beyond revolting."

Faramir felt bad for lying. But he would rather do that than hurt the girl's feelings. So he insisted awkwardly, "N-no, not at all. Eowyn, I-"

"Admit it, Faramir. Admit it. I'd rather you tell me the truth like my brother does."

Tears welled in her eyes and her voice shook. "Eomer always makes fun of my cooking...or my attempt to do so, anyway. I just wanted to prove that I can do more than boss people around... but I can't even cook the simplest stew..."

Eowyn trailed off as she wiped away her tears. Faramir stood transfixed, as if struck by an Orc's arrow. Then he moved forward to embrace her. He gently hushed her and rubbed her back.

"There, there. I'm sorry for making you so upset. It was very rude of me."

To his surprise, she didn't push away. She returned the hug and pressed her tear-stained cheek to his chest.

"It's okay, Faramir. I forgive you."

He looked down at her and smiled. "They say that every try—failure or success—is always a step forward. How about I show you some herbs we can use?"

Eowyn nodded and smiled back. She wiped away the last of her tears with the sleeve of her dress. They made sure to stay close to the fire as they explored. Faramir would find little sprouts here and there by the trees. Eowyn would kneel next to him and listen as he explained everything he knew. After gathering a bunch of herbs, Faramir and Eowyn returned to the fire to cook a proper breakfast.

Eowyn began to sit down as Faramir prepared the food. "How is it that you know so much about-"

She cut off when she abruptly straightened her legs and looked down. "Silly me...I almost sat on your pack. Um, may I have a look inside?"

"Go ahead."

Eowyn rummaged through his sack and pulled out two books. "Well, my question has been answered. You must read a lot."

Faramir smiled as he sprinkled crushed herbs into the stew. "Yes, I love books. I try to read and learn as much as I can." He gestured to the books in her hand. "Those are my favorites. I cannot bear to even go on a journey without them."

Eowyn turned them over so she could examine the covers. "Tales of Isilidur and the Bane. And—I do not even know what this says."

Faramir lightly laughed. "That's a book written in Sindarin Elvish."

"You can read it?"

"Unfortunately, no. But I find the script beautiful and fascinating. Though it is a feat close to impossible, I'm teaching myself to read and speak the language."

Eowyn was clearly impressed. "A Ranger and a scholar...any more titles to add?"

Faramir grinned and shook his head modestly. "I am just a boy eager to learn and survive. My older brother likes to say that I have the mind of an old sage in a child's body."

Eowyn chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Boromir lives by, and thinks with, the sword and his fists. He is fascinated in the art of battle, and I in the art of lore and learning. Here, the stew is done."

The children happily sat together and sipped at their stew for the next hour.

After they finished, Faramir said, "Speaking of languages, you must speak Rohirric."

Eowyn nodded. "I can sing some too."

"Really? I would like to hear it."

She plucked up her courage and sang a simple Rohirric ditty. It was nothing particularly special, just a children's nursery rhyme. Yet he sat there, enraptured by the rise and fall of words that sounded strange yet pleasant to his ears. When she finished, Faramir clapped fervently.

"You have a beautiful voice, Eowyn."

She blushed. "Thank you. I have never sang to anyone outside of my family before."

"Then I consider this an honor."

At the mention of family, Eowyn's face seemed to dim. "Though my nurse had taught me to sing, I wish it had been my mother. My father had been killed in an Orc raid, and my mother quickly passed away from grief. I'm eleven now, and it has been four years since then. But I still feel the pain…like it's freshly branded on my chest."

"I'm sorry," Faramir murmured. "My mother is dead as well. I was five at the time, but I will never forget her beautiful face."

"Neither will I for my own mother." She smiled softly at him. "I suppose we have something in common."

The two fell silent for a few seconds. To lighten the mood, Faramir spoke up. "Have you any siblings?"

She nodded. "Like you, I have a brother. Eomer is four years older than me, and is growing into a fine warrior of Rohan. He would not let me stray within a mile of the village's border. He is very protective, you see. So I had to work very hard to elude him."

Eowyn let out a laugh, but Faramir frowned a little. "He's probably very worried about you. Perhaps I should accompany you back to Rohan."

She pouted. "But our journey has only just begun. We haven't even stopped by the plains yet!"

Faramir rose and began tidying up the campsite. "Very well. We'll spend more time in leisure, but no later than nightfall. Once it's sunset I will _have_ to escort you back." He turned to her with a small smile. "As lovely as Ithilien is, the forest after sundown is no place for a young noble lady such as yourself."

Eowyn rolled her eyes. "All right, I get it. The fun ends as soon as the sun sets."

When Faramir finished packing and shouldered his things over his back, the children trekked through the forest. Eventually the trees thinned to reveal a magnificent stretch of grass and sky. Eowyn broke into a run and threw her arms wide. She laughed as she ran across the plain, with the wind tugging playfully at her dress and hair. Faramir followed behind with a smile on his face.

"Come on, Faramir!" she cried. "Don't you want to feel the wind through your hair and the sun on your face? It feels absolutely wonderful!"

She began leaping between strides and spinning around. She felt like a giddy young mare that pranced without a care in the world. And when she leapt, she felt like a eagle taking flight. Eowyn kept spinning and spinning until she got dizzy and fell onto the grass. Upon seeing her fall, Faramir broke into a run with concern on his young face.

"Eowyn, are you all right?" When he reached her, he found that she still had a broad grin on her face.

She laughed as she tried to catch her breath. "Oh I'm more than all right, Faramir. I feel so free."

He smiled back in relief and sat down next to her. "I can see why Eomer has a hard time reining you in. You're as loose and wild as a rock flying from a sling."

Her bright eyes twinkled with mischief. "And you, my friend, are as much fun as an old, frowning toad."

Faramir pretended to look hurt. "A toad, huh? We'll see who has the last laugh after I'm through with you."

He began tickling her, and she was helpless before him. She giggled and thrashed until she begged for him to stop. He couldn't help but smirk as he relented and flopped onto his back next to her. Both took a minute to catch their breath.

Then Eowyn sat up with a glint in her eyes. "Let's play a game of hide-and-seek. I'm Rohan's champion."

"Of hiding, or seeking?"

"Hiding, of course. Even Eomer has a hard time finding me since I'm small and quiet like a mouse."

Faramir scanned the forest with doubt in his eyes. "I'm not sure if we should play this game. Even in broad daylight we could get into danger at any moment."

Eowyn made a noise between a chuckle and a scoff. "You worry too much, Faramir. This game will be a lot of fun. After all, you're a Ranger. Don't Rangers also make champion seekers?"

He tilted his head and replied slowly, "If you put it that way, I suppose that's true."

"Excellent. Let's get into the shade and play there. I'm starting to get hot."

Faramir and Eowyn walked out of the plains and into the cover of the forest. The Rohirric girl pointed to a tree closest to Faramir. "Now, you stay there and count while I hide. And remember...no peeking!"

He gave her a little bow. "I will do whatever my lady wishes. I promise not to cheat."

"Good. Count to thirty!"

Faramir turned his face to the tree trunk and began counting. She tiptoed away as quickly and quietly as she could. Faramir's voice receded as she headed deeper into the woods. Finally, Eowyn noticed a little alcove of boulders next to some barren trees. She slipped into one of the openings and curled into a ball. Once she was comfortable, she smirked to herself.

'Faramir will never find me here.'

Suddenly, the scraping sound of boot over stone startled her. It seemed to come from above.

Eowyn frowned. 'He's over here already?'

Then she heard some gurgles and growls that sounded unpleasant to her ears. The more she listened, the more she realized it was all in a language she had never heard before. A chill ran through her body and the joy of the game instantly left her.

'That's not Faramir at all.'

A grotesque head with pointy ears suddenly popped out from above her hiding place. Its eyes leered like those of a rabid cat.

"I've found myself a little snack!" the head rasped.

Eowyn let out a bloodcurdling scream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hawk Eyes and Eagle Wings (3)**

"Twenty-eight, twenty-nine...thirty! Ready or not, here I come!"

Faramir took his eyes off of the trunk and began searching for his Rohirric friend. He smiled to himself as he looked down and scanned the forest floor. Despite her claim as a hiding champion, her inexperience at doing so in a forest was obvious. His trained eyes caught the twigs and grass brushed away and swept by the hem of her dress. He followed her trail on quick and nimble feet, confident that he was on the right path.

Suddenly a high-pitched shriek pierced the air.

"Eowyn!" he gasped.

Faramir gripped his bow tighter and charged through the forest. Something else found her before he did.

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The goblin couldn't believe his luck. His day had started with a lousy morning, which included an order to scout for Rohirric patrols under daylight. The next thing he knew, he stumbled upon a delightful little snack. Unfortunately, her hair-raising scream stunned him for a moment.

Eowyn didn't waste a second and she dashed away from her hiding place. She scrambled over the rocks and ran through the forest like there was no tomorrow.

"Faramir! Faramir, help!" she cried at the top of her lungs.

The goblin cursed and took off after her. He continued to unleash a stream of foul language as he squinted at the damned sunlight. Eowyn felt relief flooding her body as she sighted Faramir a few feet away. The boy already had an arrow notched. He aimed at the goblin as he ran. He fired and the arrow struck the goblin's eye. The ugly creature reeled back and shrieked.

Faramir grabbed Eowyn's hand. "Come on, we have to go!"

The children took off the other way. Faramir's mind raced with panic. Why didn't he foresee this? He should've kept an eye out for danger. He should've known that Orcs could lurk in forests even under the sun, no matter how much they despised it.

Faramir dared to glance over his shoulder. To his horror, more Orcs and goblins accompanied their injured comrade. Some carried bows and arrows.

"Duck and cover!" he shouted to Eowyn.

He released her hand as arrows flew over their heads. Eowyn threw herself behind a tree as an arrow zipped past her cheek. She panted and gasped for air. She put a hand to her burning chest and fought to steady herself.

'Faramir...where's Faramir?'

Eowyn's eyes darted around desperately. To her relief, he happened to hide behind a tree just across from her. Then her heart nearly stopped. Faramir's face was one of surprise and pain. His wide eyes stared off and shallow breaths escaped his lips. An arrow protruded from his right calf. Blood flowed steadily down his leg.

"Oi, where did those little rats run off to?"

"No idea, but I think I hit one of 'em with my arrer."

"Search and sniff 'em out!"

Faramir met Eowyn's gaze. Both shared overwhelming fear in their eyes. But, Faramir reasoned, Eowyn had a better chance of escape. She had to. All of Rohan could fall into disaster if they received news of her capture. Or worse...

Faramir didn't want to think about it. He heard the Orcs stalking closer, and Eowyn was too paralyzed to move. His mind raced for a plan. Then, out of impulse rather than thought, the boy tore himself from his hiding place. He winced as pain lanced from his injured leg. He nearly fell over to one side and stumbled over the grass.

"Hey, there goes one!"

"Let's get 'im, boys!"

There was no way his limping run could outmatch the Orcs. But in the art of distraction, time was precious. He could at least grant Eowyn a few seconds to run off while the Orcs followed him.

Faramir gasped in fear as claws grabbed him from behind. A large and fearsome Orc seized the boy and crushed him to his chest.

"Gotcha, you little roach!" the Orc cackled.

Faramir twisted his head to see Eowyn still huddled at the tree. Some Orcs already sighted her and were closing in like a pack of frenzied sharks.

"What are you doing?" he shouted. "Get out of here _now_! _Run for your life_!"

In a flash of white, Eowyn darted away and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. But she wasn't fast enough. She screamed as two Orcs seized and swept her off her feet.

The Orc holding Faramir smirked with savage satisfaction. "Good, got both of 'em. Let's head back."

Faramir had his bow snatched away before he could fight back. Eowyn put up a brave but futile struggle against the Orc that had her. It only took a few violent shakes to subdue her into defeat. The Orc and goblin mob trudged back to where they had come: a shady area of trees yet to be touched by daylight. Gloomy shadows loomed all around them, and they made Eowyn uncomfortable. What she feared most were the foul creatures, and the fate that awaited her and Faramir.

The Orcs arrived at a small quarry where the rest of their kind made camp. Faramir made a very quick and rough count: at least twenty of them. Eowyn's eyes widened and she recoiled. Never had she seen so many beings of filth and terror gathered in one place. It was a living nightmare.

The Orc leading the patrol flung Faramir to the ground. The one carrying Eowyn did likewise. The children huddled back to back as the Orcs surrounded them with fiendish interest. Some were still in the middle of eating; half-eaten meat fell from their slack jaws as they examined the children. Some were licking their yellow teeth and their eyes gleamed hungrily. Eowyn blinked many times, as if still refusing to believe this was reality. Fear was evident in Faramir's eyes, though the boy held his gaze steadily to figure out what was going on.

One Orc extended a skewer that hovered a hairlength away from Eowyn's face. "Oi, these two look like a fit bunch to chew on."

Suddenly a deep and savage growl sounded. "Out of my way! Let me through, damn you!"

A horrendously large and fearsome Orc pushed his way to the center. He loomed over Faramir and Eowyn like a hulk, ugly shadow. The number of body scars, the size of his armor, and the amount of grisly trophies that adorned it, clearly told them that he was the Orcs' leader.

"Well, well...what do we have here? Two little maggots all by themselves in the woods."

The rest of the Orcs and goblins sniggered fitfully. Faramir and Eowyn only huddled closer together. She turned to grip his arm. He felt the dampness of her shaking, clammy hands.

The Orc leader pointed at Eowyn. "You with the dress. Something tells me that you're someone important. What is your name, girl?"

"I won't tell!" she retorted. Then she mentally slapped herself. What madness drove her to blurt such a thing? The Orcs may as well run her through for her nerve. But they didn't. The Orc leader instead seized Faramir by the collar. His leer revealed filthy black teeth.

"Does this boy mean anything to you?"

Faramir dangled a few inches off the ground, his eyes clenched shut from the pain of his wound and the intensity of the Orc's grip. Eowyn didn't know what to say or do. She was frozen in fear, in both action and tongue.

"So you remain silent. I guess we can have fun with him."

The Orc leader gripped the arrow at Faramir's leg and made a cruel twist. Faramir let out an anguished cry and the Orcs cackled in amusement. He gritted his teeth and thrashed as the Orc twisted the arrow a few more times. The blood running down Faramir's thigh and the agony on his face was more than Eowyn can bear. She shut her eyes and whimpered.

The Orc leader made a sadistic laugh, which sounded more like a disgusting cough. "We will cook him nice and slow, so he can watch his own guts curdle over the fire!"

Then an Orc with a horribly disfigured face swaggered up to the leader, his teeth bared and one eye wide with livid rage. Though shorter than the leader, he was no less burly and fearsome.

"You idiot! What do you think you're doing?"

The leader snorted. "Playing with our food before eating it. What else?"

The one-eyed Orc grabbed Faramir's tunic and jabbed a dirty claw at the boy's chest. "Do ye not recognize the White Tree when ye see it, Grishnakh? This boy hails from Gondor! Only noble ones wear the White Tree."

"So?"

"So would you rather value him as ransom over meat? Think long and hard, or your answer will lose you your best warrior."

The Orcs growled amongst themselves, their eyes darting between Grishnakh and the opposing speaker.

Grishnakh narrowed his eyes. "Know your place, Gothmog. Watch your tongue or I will hack it off."

The Orc leader lifted Faramir higher so that they met at eye level. He stared with distaste. "Hmmph, looks too skinny for my taste. We'll keep him alive, then." He dropped Faramir and the boy crumpled to the grass. Eowyn rushed over. She wrapped an arm around him. She looked up to Gothmog with as much dignity she had left.

"You guessed right. The boy is Faramir, son of the Steward of Gondor. And I am Eowyn, niece to the King of Rohan and daughter of the house of Eorl."

Grishnakh smirked. "Niece to the King and son of a Steward, eh? I smell a nice ransom cooking."

Gothmog spoke up again. "Perhaps it's time for _you_to know your place. We're under direct orders from our superiors at Mordor. We can't just do whatever we please. Besides, you wouldn't know what to do with the brats if they were made of gold."

Grishnakh scowled. "What's your solution, then? Let's hear it."

Gothmog cast his eye over Faramir and Eowyn, who shuddered under his sinister gaze. He didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then he broke the silence ominously: "The Lieutenant of Barud-dur. Take them to him. He'll know what to do."

The mob of Orcs erupted into exclamations of disbelief and uneasiness. Eowyn had no idea who this Lieutenant of Barud-dur was. But if it was something that unsettled even the Orcs, she had good reason to fret as well.

Faramir had heard of countless horror stories surrounding Barud-dur, the great dark tower that housed Sauron himself. Dread roiled in his gut like a cold storm.

Grishnakh raised his voice so the entire mob could hear. "Listen up, ye maggots! We have noble brats in our hands, so we're keeping 'em alive. I want no Orc messin' with these two. They are _not_for eating."

The Orcs seemed to grumble in dismay, but they complied.

"Give the boy some Orc-medicine." Grishnakh said. "As soon as he's patched up we're hightailing it!"

A skinny and gangly Orc shuffled over to the children with a flask. He tossed it at Eowyn's direction and she barely caught it. She helped Faramir to prop himself against a tree.

"We have to remove this arrow before anything else," he managed to say with a wince.

"I have to pull it out?"

"You can do it. I know you can."

Eowyn bit her lip and she nodded nervously. Faramir bit into his cloak as she gripped the arrow tight.

"Ready?" she asked. "One, two...three!"

Faramir made a muffled cry and his knuckles went white as she removed the arrow with a firm yank. Thankfully the wound stopped bleeding; only dried blood ran down his leg. Eowyn popped open the flask and poured some liquid over the wound. Faramir hissed between his teeth and he squeezed his eyes shut. "It burns."

Eowyn pressed the cloak over his leg and held it there firmly. "I'm sorry. This is all we can do." She lowered her head in shame. "And...I'm also sorry for failing to run away. It was so brave of you to put your life on the line for me. I'm such a fool."

"Don't be," he replied gently. "None of this is your fault."

Suddenly the Orc that had grabbed Faramir earlier seized the boy again. This time he had Faramir by his pack.

"What do ye have in here?"

The Orc tore the pack off of Faramir's shoulders and shook the contents out. Bundled herbs, dried meat, bread, small bowls, a dagger and the two books spilled onto the forest floor. The Orc snatched up the little knife and stuffed it into his grimy tunic.

"I'll take that! Just like how I stole your little bow."

Next he grabbed the books and opened them. He leafed through the pages awkwardly and angrily.

"What is this rubbish?" he growled. "Damn parchments. They're only good for fire fodder."

The Orc turned and made as it to toss the books into a nearby fire. At this, Faramir snapped. To Eowyn's surprise, he leapt forward and tackled the Orc from behind. The Orc only swayed in his spot, and he whacked the boy on the head. Faramir wouldn't give up.

"You throw those books into the fire, then I'll join them!"

"Faramir!" Eowyn cried. "Don't be so rash!"

But the boy stood his ground between the fire and the Orc. His eyes blazed with a grey, stormy wrath unlike anything Eowyn has ever seen from him. Even the Orc was stunned for a moment.

"Remember your leader's orders. You can't lay a claw on me. My death will lead to yours."

The Orc finally spat at the ground. "Fine. Take your books. And the rest of your measly pack for that matter. It's all useless junk."

With that the Orc stalked away. Eowyn expelled a shaky sigh of relief when Faramir gathered his belongings and joined her.

"Y-you _idiot_!" she sputtered. "All of that fuss over some books. You could have been killed by that…that awful creature!" She lowered her yell to a hushed whisper when she said the last two words. She didn't want the Orc to come back after hearing that.

Faramir managed a weak, sheepish chuckle. "Forgive me, Eowyn. I honestly don't know what came over me."

"You're lucky this time," she said with a huff. "Watch what you say."

"You're one to talk."

Eowyn suppressed a smile and elbowed her friend in the ribs. She couldn't believe that even in such a dire situation like this, they still joked around. Suddenly a rough arm seized her by the stomach. She let out a horrified cry as she was swung over an Orc's shoulder. Faramir too was grabbed and hoisted in the same fashion.

"Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "Faramir hasn't finished recovering-"

"Shut up, girl! Scouts have spotted a Rohirric patrol heading this way. We have to move!"

Eowyn looked at Faramir. Though his face was still weak and pale, his grey eyes held adamant strength and determination. He gave her a small smile. "Whatever happens, we'll be fine. We _will_ survive."

Eowyn could only nod back. He was right. She had to be strong...for Faramir, for herself and for her people. The band of Orcs stalked off, carrying with them the son of the Steward and a young maiden of Rohan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hawk Eyes and Eagle Wings (4)**

Eowyn was going to be sick.

Her head jerked and lolled at every step the Orc took. Her stomach constantly bounced against the shoulder plate underneath. She moaned and shut her eyes in an attempt to dispel her nausea. To her relief, the entire mob stopped in their tracks.

"Have we lost them?" one Orc asked.

"I doubt it," another growled back. "We're no match for Men on horseback, on foot or in battle."

"Then shut up and get a move on!" Grishnakh snarled. "We must put as much distance as possible between us and them."

The Orcs were on the move again. Eowyn glanced at Faramir. Though it was hard to see in the fading light, he seemed to look better than before. His eyes were closed as he clutched the Orc's back armor.

'That's a good idea,' she thought. 'I should hold on for the bumpy ride too.'

Eowyn reached down and grabbed onto the nearest thing her hands could find. The Orc that carried her had a hefty blade strapped to his back, so Eowyn held on to its hilt. They trekked over stretching plains and rolling hills, and picked up even more speed once the sun has set. Her nausea faded away, though her stomach now felt sore and numb. It was completely dark now, and all Eowyn could see were the Orcs' hulking silhouettes and hear their breathy pants and grunts. There was no way she could see Faramir. She could only pray that he was okay.

She grew drowsy as the night dragged on, but to her frustration she couldn't get even a wink of sleep. Just the fact that a rough and filthy Orc replaced her white and soft bed unsettled her. It was the longest night she had ever endured. Despair filled her heart when she thought of how likely it was to endure more. She felt like her eyes had sunken into their sockets when dawn arrived. Though her eyes hurt as she squinted at the sun, relief filled her as light overcame the darkness.

Eowyn looked around for Faramir and found that he was still next to her. She blinked in confusion. He was sound asleep! His eyes held no traces of bruising, and he slept as if he were an infant draped over his mother's shoulder.

'How on earth did he manage to sleep through _that_?'

The Orc troop finally halted a few minutes after sunrise. Grishnakh announced from the front, "We can stop here! Drop your gear but stay on watch!"

All around her she heard Orcs dumping their weapons on the ground. She made a surprised cry as the Orc that carried her roughly plopped her down. She jumped when his blade landed next to her.

"Tie some ropes around the brats!" Grishnakh continued to shout. "Make sure they're not going anywhere."

A pair of Goblins knelt down to wound ropes around Eowyn's wrists and ankles. She winced as the ropes cut into her pale, delicate skin. Then the Goblins moved so that an Orc dumped Faramir next to her. The boy's eyes flew open as he hit the ground. The Goblins immediately went to work with him.

"Had a good night?" Eowyn asked sarcastically.

"I've had better." he replied before stifling a yawn. He looked down in dismay at his bound wrists.

"How's your wound?" she asked, this time with genuine concern.

Faramir fiddled with his pant legging and pulled it back to reveal a round, brown scar.

"It doesn't hurt anymore. Though this will probably stay on me for as long as I live." Then he grimaced. "That Orc-liquor tasted like stale grog. It still lingers on my tongue. I'd much rather sip on some fine wine."

Eowyn nodded dreamily. "Blackcurrent wine from a flagon of oaken wood...Or perhaps Eomer's favorite: strawberry cordial after a summer harvest. My cousin Theodred prefers aged chestnut beer."

"Say no more," Faramir groaned. "One more mention of a decent drink and you'll be the death of me before these Orcs do it."

Eowyn snorted. "You started it. So what drinks do you and your brother like?"

"Boromir savors any of the strongest wine he can get his hands on. As for me...I can't remember at the moment. Anything but Orc-liquor would do me some good now. I'd be happy with simple clean water."

An Orc came along and tossed something at their bound feet. Since the rising sun was still weak, Faramir leaned forward to get a better look. There were pieces of bread and strips of red flesh carelessly wrapped in a dirty rag.

"Ah, there's our breakfast," Faramir remarked wryly. He plucked it from the ground and handed half of the share to Eowyn. "Try to eat most of it as possible. We might not get bread and meat again anytime soon."

Eowyn recoiled. "That's _bread_? They look like rocks!"

Faramir made no reply as he went ahead and chewed at his breakfast. He left the strip of meat untouched. He didn't want to sink his teeth into the raw flesh of whatever creature it came from. Eowyn sighed and followed suit. She grimaced at the bread before taking a tentative bite. It took her several tries to actually get her teeth into it. The "bread" was dry, unappetizing, sour...in short, a far cry from the warm and rich loaves baked in Rohan.

She brushed away the thought of home and ate with resolution. She had to come to her senses. Wishing and whining wasn't going to get her home.

Faramir ate his bread calmly, though his mind was a storm of thoughts, worries and questions. He knew well enough that any word of his capture would never reach Gondor. Even if it did, which the chances would be close to impossible, he doubted his father would respond with alarm. Perhaps Boromir, or even his uncle, the Prince of Dol Amroth...?

He stifled his flash of hope as quickly it had occurred. 'No. If Father will not know, no one else will.'

His mind wandered to Eowyn's situation. Surely hers was a different case. Surely the people of Rohan would notice her disappearance by now. Surely the king must be dispatching double patrols in search of his niece.

As if she had read his mind, Eowyn said aloud in a low voice, "I hope my uncle will be looking for us. The day will come and we'll be rescued."

Her voice was tinged with sadness and the notion of wishful thinking. Faramir scooted closer to her; because his tied up wrists would not allow a comforting arm around her shoulder, he placed his hands on her knee instead.

"Does the King love you?"

She nodded firmly. "Like a daughter. He is always kind and gracious to me, ever since he took me and my brother in."

"Then that's enough to keep you going. Love is an extraordinary thing that will drive a man to the ends of the earth. The King is most likely worried sick about you, and he'll do whatever it takes to get you back safe."

Eowyn cracked a smile and rested her head against Faramir's shoulder. "Thank you for your words of encouragement. What about your father? Will he be worried over you too?"

Faramir's grey eyes darkened. He shook his head. "I have not seen him in months. He knows that I'm traveling in the wilderness alone. But he won't be so quick to come to my aid."

"Well, he ought to. What father does not worry over his own son?"

Faramir didn't say anything. Eowyn took his silence to be hiding a relationship far beyond her understanding. But she still had something to say.

"If I were your father, I would feel blessed to have such a smart, kind and gentle boy like you."

Faramir lifted his gaze from the ground to Eowyn's passionate face. "You mean that?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I do."

He gave her a little smile of gratitude.

She tried to start off on another tangent. "I remember you telling me that you are a son of the Steward. Does that mean Gondor has no king?"

Faramir nodded. "Gondor has been without one for thousands of years. Not since Isilidur, anyway. It is the Steward's job to rule in place of the king. My father, Denethor, ruled after my grandfather, Ecthelion, passed. And when the time comes, Boromir will be next in line."

"And what will you do, Faramir?"

The boy stared off into the trees. "Perhaps keep watch over Ithilien until the end of my days. I love the forests just as much as I love the White City."

Eowyn glanced overhead. "How can you stand being so close to those huge mountains? You will have to spend the rest of your life fighting Orcs and Goblins."

Faramir chuckled grimly. "If I ever live to see the rest of my life."

Then he heard a declaration in Black Speech. At the guttural, growling call, all the Orcs began shuffling and milling everywhere.

"What's going on?" Eowyn asked.

A lean Orc with an ill-tempered face swaggered over and yelled at the children. "Get up, brats! On your feet! We're moving!"

He held onto the extra rope from their wrists and seized them up. Faramir and Eowyn were jerked to their feet and they stumbled after the Orc in bewilderment. The Orc turned his head and brandished a whip clasped in his other hand.

"Don't even think of makin' suspicious movements. Or I'll whip you and peel the skin off yore backs!"

A Goblin nearby sniggered. "Better listen to Radbug. He's chief Prison Guard at Mordor for good reason!"

Radbug lashed his whip out. "Shut yer trap and get back in line with the rest of your worthless, puny brethren!"

The Goblin quickly leapt out of the way. With a grumble he scuttled behind the bigger, brutal Orcs.

Faramir and Eowyn exchanged an apprehensive glance, and did their best to keep up with Radbug. To the young Ranger, all the beauty of a sunlit Ithilien was lost upon him. To Eowyn, every step into the forest was a step farther from home.

Radbug pulled at them with erratic jerks as he walked. During the few chances that the ropes slackened, Eowyn reached up for a braid woven into her fair hair. She tugged it out and tightened it in her fist for a moment before dropping it. The braid was made of fine Meara hair, and given to her by the King. She prayed that anyone from her homeland would recognize it amid the Orc footprints.

Fortunately, only Faramir noticed this. And he too prayed for the same thing.


End file.
